Joanne in Sand

Les was laughing hard, and she came across the room and gave me a hug.

"I'm here to help."

"Like you helped yesterday with the bikini?"

"You wouldn't have gotten it if I hadn't sneaked out your credit card and paid for it."

"Right, but that doesn't mean I'm going to wear it."

"I want you to text me a photo every day of you on the beach wearing that bikini."

"Like that's going to happen."

"Look at me."

I looked, and she did appear serious. When she looked that way, I knew something serious was about to be said.

"You know, Jo, when you agreed to take this trip, you showed how strong you are. You didn't hide in the corner and pout, you're doing something."

"I'm doing something you made me do," I replied, half in jest, but I wouldn't have done it without Les's prodding. I wasn't sure it was strength that made me fly off to what was purported to be warm and beautiful. That's what I'd been told when we picked it for the honeymoon. I hoped it was all true.

"So," Les continued, "wear the bikini."

"I'll probably try it. I could pack it in my wallet, and no one would know it."

Les spotted it in the suitcase and held it up--both tiny pieces.

"Green to match your eyes and compliment your pale skin and red hair. And, big enough to cover your particulars."

"Barely," I grumbled.

"While you're away, I'll get a new and tiny bikini, and we'll go to the pool together."

"You just want to embarrass me with those big hooters of yours hanging out."

Les laughed. "Nothing I can do about that."

I spent a good bit of the rest of the day with Dad and was a bit surprised at his understanding of my feelings. I felt so much better after my time with him, and he agreed it would be good for Olesya to take me to the airport.

"It's nice to have only one suitcase, but I don't know if I can survive on what you packed," I told Les on Sunday morning.

"Most people pack too much," she countered. "Plus, you have a credit card, and I guarantee they have shops."

"Might be fun to splurge on a few new things."

With a hug and mutual kisses on cheeks, I bid Les goodbye and headed for security and my gate. I'd checked the suitcase at the stand just inside the door, so I had only my fairly substantial backpack to lug around. I stopped at the McDonalds for an Egg McMuffin and a couple bottles of water, then meandered to my gate, wondering what the hell I was doing. I still had more than an hour to fill.

I actually dozed a little on the flight to Miami, watched lots of well-tanned travelers during the one-hour layover, then was off to the Dominican Republic.

I'd only been seated for a few minutes when someone settled into the seat beside me. When I glanced at him, he smiled and stared, shaking his head. He looked to be mid-fifties, with nearly black hair and graying temples, dark eyes that seemed to twinkle, and a classically handsome face.

"Sorry for staring," he said as he fastened his seatbelt, "but you'll understand in a moment." He opened his briefcase, pulled out his laptop computer, then stowed the briefcase under the seat.

The laptop was on, and while it was booting up, he glanced at me again with another smile. When he turned it so I could see the screen, a woman's face filled the screen.

"My wife."

"Very pretty, and red hair," I said with a chuckle.

"Yes, red hair," he confirmed as he brought up another picture.

My mouth dropped open, and it was my turn to look at him. "That isn't me, but it could be."

"It's my wife on our honeymoon about thirty-four years ago."

When he said "honeymoon," I felt it in my stomach but didn't let it show.

"You two could be sisters, maybe fraternal twins, even down to the freckles. May I take a selfie with you and text it to her?"

"Sure." I scooted closer and bent across the seat divider as he took the photo and sent it to his wife with the message, "My seatmate."

"Do you have time for me to call?" was her almost instant response.

He made the Facetime call, and the redhead I had just seen was there in front of me.

"There you are," she said. "You aren't me, but you could have been a few years ago. Harold, how did you find her?"

"She was just sitting here, waiting for me."

We were ready to take off, so the phone was put away.

I extended my hand. "I'm Joanne Kilbride?"

"Mathew Wellings, and that was my wife, Angela. Kilbride is a good Irish name, and Angela was an O'Brian."

"Is there any way you could email that photo of your wife to me?"

He switched to a note-taking app, and I gave him my email address.

The rest of the trip was energizing as Matt and I jabbered the entire time. I almost hated it when we had to part after landing.

But I was here in the Dominican Republic and caught the shuttle to the resort where I'd be trapped for two weeks.

I checked in and was escorted to where I'd be staying. Tyson, bless his blackened soul, had spared no expense on our, now my, accommodations. A large living room with a huge flat-screen TV, a tiny kitchen, and a bedroom with a king-size bed. It was on the third floor, and there were two giant windows with a view of the ocean. There were bottles of wine, a basket of fruit, and a large arrangement of flowers, all of which were renewed every day.

I was a little hungry and had read that there were three fantastic (the resort's description) restaurants on the site. I decided I'd go downstairs and eat at the first one I found. I changed into shorts and a yellow blouse and headed out the door.

I closed the door and immediately bumped into someone.

"Damn distracted driving," he said as he waved his cell phone over his head. "I'm sorry and hope you're okay."

I chuckled. "No harm, no foul," I said, continuing the out-of-place sayings that had begun our contact.

"Good. And I'm Lonny O'Reilly," he added, his rather large hand extended toward me.

"Joanne Kilbride," I said, watching my hand disappear but being amazed at his gentle touch.

"Kilbride, huh? Kilbride and O'Reilly. An Irish convention." His laugh was deep and warm. "And to make it nearly complete, you look very Irish with the red hair and those tantalizing freckles."

Hearing the compliment from a tall, fit, and decidedly handsome man had my cheeks striving to match my hair.

"That's not a word I'd use to describe them."

"Listen, something tells me you're heading to dinner, and unless you're joining someone else, would you allow me to join you?"

My mind was whirring, but I couldn't think of a single plausible excuse for not joining him.

"If you can put up with me, I'd like that."

His smile gave away that there was something he wanted to say but was restraining himself. And I was curious about his saying he was joining me--maybe innocuous, but unusual for a man, I thought.

"Which restaurant had you chosen?"

Another laugh. "Whichever one I came to first."

"As good as flipping a coin. I'm right behind you."

We went outside and wandered randomly until we found another building, and in it found a restaurant. We were seated and handed menus, which weren't much help. They were in English, but the food was in Dominican, if there was such a thing.

"Have you been here before?" I asked, looking puzzled, I'm sure.

"I was counting on you. There are descriptions. Short descriptions."

Short was right. My eyes were jumping back and forth, working to read them all.

"May I ask a question?" Lonny quietly asked, interrupting my eyeball dancing.

"Sure."

"Are you brave and adventurous?"

The suddenness of his question made me wary, and I think he interpreted the look on my face.

"About food, since that's what we're doing now." He looked a bit chagrined, probably due to my reaction. "Sorry," he added demurely.

"No, no. It's just me. Go ahead with what you were going to say." I decided quickly. "Yes, I can be brave and adventurous."

He eyed me for a moment, then chuckled. "Here's my plan, my suggested plan, at least."

He spread the menu in front of me.

"You close your eyes, I'll shift the menu around, and you put your finger on what you'll be eating tonight. Then, I'll do the same." His eyes seemed to twinkle in the light from the large candle gracing our table as he awaited my answer.

"I don't know what it is when I read it, so why not? Closing my eyes."

I heard the menu moving around.

"Okay."

I lowered my finger until it touched something, then opened my eyes.

"You're having Sancocho."

With the process repeated, Lonny was having Chicharron.

"Earlier, you said it was just you." Lonny smiled.

I was really enjoying my time with Lonny, all forty-five minutes of it so far. No one had mentioned marital status. It was my turn to shrug or to tell him. Bold and adventurous?

"This was supposed to be my honeymoon. On Friday, my fiance said, 'bye-bye' and headed off to Finland." There it was, in just a few words."

"Idiot!" he said sharply. If all of you is like the lady I've seen tonight, he's an idiot, or maybe worse."

I was a little surprised at his outburst and wasn't sure how to reply.

"And I can't imagine going through something like that. I'm so sorry it had to happen to you."

"Thanks so much. I can't imagine going through it either, except I am. We'll see how it comes out."

"Um, you're okay? I mean, you aren't thinking..."

It suddenly dawned on me what he was talking about. It was very personal, but the concerned look on his face and in his eyes somehow soothed me.

"No, no. Nothing like that. When the two weeks are over, I'll go home and try to figure things out and where I'll be headed."

"That was kind of pushy, but we had a neighbor whose husband suddenly left, and when another neighbor got a little suspicious, he found her in her garage and in her car...with the motor running."

"Was she okay?" Just the thought of that was terrifying.

"They found her just in time, thank goodness."

"Nothing like that has even passed through my mind. I'm just twenty-five, and, well, I'm expecting a full life." I chuckled. "Maybe I just went through strike one. Two more to go."

"I hope not."

Our meals arrived, my Sancocho and Lonny's Chicharron. We both smiled at the server, then stared at what was in front of us.

I knew that mine had beef, pork, and chicken, as well as several vegetables, a couple of which I recognized. The smell was very enticing, so I dipped my spoon and sampled it.

"Well," Lonny said, smiling at me. "Did your finger betray you?"

"Not at all; it's good."

"What does it taste like?"

"Like nothing I've ever tasted before, but it's very, very good. Go ahead and dip your spoon and try it."

He did. "You're right. Gooood. Go ahead and try mine."

"You haven't tried it yet," I countered.

"I'm like the king. I need a taster before I try it."

The expression on his face and the tone of his words made me laugh.

"I've already used my spoon."

"Use your fork then, and take a nice bite."

"Is that pork?" Not that it made any difference. I was just curious.

"That's what the menu says."

This did seem a little weird, sharing each other's food, but if Lonny was okay with it, I suppose I was too. I used my fork to cut off a piece of the meat and tasted it.

"I think you'll like it, your majesty."

Lonny laughed, shook his head, and took a bite.

"My compliments to the royal taster. It's good, indeed."

When I'd arrived here, I certainly hadn't felt like joking or laughing, but Lonny was easy to talk to, and, trying or not, he was cheering me up a little. I wasn't sure it would last, but it was a very pleasant change from the last couple of days.

We finished eating, we exchanged "glad to meet yous," and parted.

Les had loaded a dozen books onto my Kindle, but first, I made a quick trip to the beach just to look at the ocean. Then I returned to my room, beginning the first book on the Kindle. Les called to find out if I'd gotten here safely, and we talked for fifteen minutes. I shared the story of the Wellings, and she was anxious to see the pictures.

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

I hadn't really planned anything. "I guess a good breakfast and then a walk around to see the whole place. I'll probably end up on the beach reading."

I expected her to insist I wear the new bikini, but she didn't say anything. I promised to text tomorrow.

The book was good, but it had been a full day. Two glasses of a red wine that was unfamiliar to me, plus a banana, and I was asleep, huddled beneath the flowered sheets and light blanket in the king-size bed.

I hadn't closed the drapes since I was on the third floor, and the bright sun greeted me when I opened my eyes. I propped myself up on two pillows and watched the ocean as reality slowly crept into focus. What was I going to be doing for the next two weeks, and why did I let Les talk me into this?

I decided that my first act would be to get dressed, and the second would be breakfast. The first completed, I headed downstairs, stopping at the desk to ask which restaurant served American breakfasts. Pointed in the right direction, I had bacon and eggs. I'd experiment later in the week.

Back in my room, I brushed my teeth and debated. I knew Les would ask, and that made my decision simple. I pulled the new bikini out of the suitcase...and stared at it, what there was of it. It was green but had a small and unique pattern of black lines that even I found to be fascinating. There was a small chain that circled my neck and two similar ones that would rest on my hips, holding the front and back together. I took a deep breath, added a light coverup, filled a small bag with essentials, and began my day at the beach.

The resort had chairs strategically placed, and I selected one as my home base. I applied SPF 8 and, after an hour, would add SPF 50, hopefully allowing my pale skin to develop a bit of color. I was freckled but, in the past, had been able to tan. With two weeks, I might be able to do it again.

With the coverup in the bag, I headed toward the water, anxious to get my feet wet. The water was warm, and the feel of the sand being washed away from beneath my feet was almost seductive, bringing back memories of past beach experiences. I waded, watched the waves, and brushed aside, as best I could, thoughts of what these two weeks were supposed to be.

I was part-way through my first book and was anxious to finish it. It looked like Les had loaded only adventure books on my Kindle. I walked across the hard sand to my chair, retrieved the Kindle, and began to read.

"Can you play with us," a small voice asked.?

I twisted in the chair and found a smiling face opposite mine.

"Hi there. Are you having a good time at the ocean?"

"Yes, and so is my brother, Adam."

Another face appeared. "Hello. We need help."

"Can you help us?"

I think I was close to their size, so they wanted me to join them.

"What do you need help with?"

Adam's sister pointed to a large pile of sand that had a bit of shape to it.

"We want to build a sand castle."

"So if you're Adam," I said, pointing to the boy, "who are you?"

"I'm Ruth. Will you help us?"

I heard another voice.

"Ruth, Adam, don't bother the lady." The speaker, whose blond hair matched Ruth's, was running toward us.

"I'm so sorry," she said, an almost anguished look on her face. "I went to get coffee. I'm sorry they bothered you."

"I was sitting here by myself, and now I have company. And I think I'm about to build a sand castle."

"Oh, no, you don't have to do that."

"I have time, plenty of it, and I don't want to let my new friends down."

A duet of "Yay" sounded, and the two little ones headed for the sand.

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

She looked at me carefully. "How can someone who has your looks be here by themself?"

I laughed a little sardonically, I think. "In a few words, shit happens."

"Uh-oh. Sorry for that" She was quiet for a moment. "I wish I could wear a bikini like that. But, as you said, not exactly shit happens, but kids happen," she finished, glancing at her two. "Feel free to go back to your book."

"I'm kind of looking forward to seeing a sand castle appear in that pile of sand."

Mom laughed. "I'm going to finish my coffee and read for a while. The hubby is off playing golf, so I have a little free time to read." She laughed again. "I saw you reading, too, on your Kindle. He says I read too much. I need to DO more things. He needs to stay home with those kids so he can see more of what I do." A sigh this time. "Thanks for letting me blow off a little steam there."

"Hey, no problem. I'm looking forward to one day having a couple of them myself."

"Good luck on that," she said, waving to me. "You two be good," she added, waved, and walked quickly back to her coffee and book.

We had two buckets, so we headed to the ocean to get some water. I wasn't sure how much was needed to build a stable sand castle, but I was sure we'd learn.

We carved a little bowl in the sand, poured in the water, then mixed in the sand.

"Ew," Ruth said. "My arms are all sandy."

"Take the bucket and get more water, and while you're there, rinse the sand off your arms."

"Okay."

And so went the next hour as we worked together to get a sand castle started. Hopefully, it would rain tonight, which would provide lots of wet sand for tomorrow.

"Okay, you two. Time to go back to our room and then get some lunch. Your daddy will be home soon."

"We're having fun with Joanne."

"It'll be here tomorrow, guys. Have a good lunch."

Chagrined, they took a last look at the sand they hoped would become a castle.

I was somewhat committed to helping them, so I tried to visualize how our creation might look. After about ten minutes, I became aware that someone was standing behind me. When I turned to see who it might be, I was surprised.

"You're not someone I'd expect to see playing in the sand with two little buckets," he said, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

He wasn't someone I expected to see looking over my shoulder, either.

"There's a logical explanation, and if not logical, at least reasonable."

His laugh was warm and sincere.

"You brought it up, so I'm waiting for logical or reasonable." He had light curly hair that had obviously been recently wet, his build lithe, possibly athletic, but definitely not muscular.

"I was helping two little ones build a castle."

His chuckle hinted at what was to come. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I think more work is in order."

"They're seven and nine, and I'm about five sand castle building-wise."

"What's your hope for it then?"

"My hope is for rain tonight, so we'll have more good sand tomorrow."

"I think you may get your wish. And let me ask you something. Would you like some help?" His head was cocked to the side in almost a shrug.

Now I was getting a little uneasy. Despite his smile and the tone of his voice, I was not who I'd been just a week ago. I was "damaged" and very unsure of myself. Plus, I'd caught him several times checking out the extensive skin I was showing, thank you, Les. I was by myself, as well.

"So you want to play in the sand too?" If he proved not to be trustworthy, I could run to my room and hide.

"I have built a few sand castles, along with my brother and sister, in California."

"I've seen pictures of some of those California sand castles from the contests they have there."

"We did some of that," he said a little shyly.

"Wait, you've built sand castles for those contests, and you're offering to help me with this little pile of sand?"

"I'm here with my grandfather. The whole family rebelled when he wanted to come by himself, and I was drafted to have an all-expenses paid trip to the Dominican Republic. Here I am, offering my help because Grandpa wants to cruise the resort by himself." He looked a little red-faced when he finished.